


In Which The Beta Kids Attend Hogwarts, Discover Hidden Potential, Make Friends, Fight Monsters, Solve Mysteries, And Fall In Love

by The10ofSwords



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Harry Potter AU, M/M, What am I doing, based off inheiritors 'quoddotch', honestly this is taking way more time than i had planned, i set up a whole universe for this, if i can get to them, leave it to me to fuck up such a great potential au, mysteries!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The10ofSwords/pseuds/The10ofSwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the title says it all</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Hell I Mean Hogwarts

The first time Dave Strider saw him was the summer after he turned 10. It was the same day an owl flew into the kitchen, holding an envelope. Sometimes that happened in the Strider flat, but this time Bro didn't cry when he read it. Dave was about 8 that day, when Bro said that Dirk wasn't coming back. 8 year olds don't really understand the concept of death yet. But today, a few strange things would happen. 

Dave was playing alone in the dusty playground across the street from his apartment. He liked to make little mounds of dirt and pretend they were sprawling ant empires. Today the ants were trillions of dollars in debt and they were holding a conference discussing the best way to exploit the ant citizens and drag themselves out of economic ruin. That's when the man appeared. 

He was wearing a red three-piece suit, with a broken record printed over the breast pocket. His hair was practically white, like Dave's, and he wore sunglasses, like Dave, except they were aviators- not like the triangular pair Bro gave him. He was tall and thin, and wore an expression of indifference, which might have intimidated the boy had he not been raised, trained, to be equally stoic. 

Dave looked up at the dude long enough to absorb these details and returned to his game. The mysterious man seemed to think this was funny, air rushing out of his nostrils as he laughed silently. The young boy's eyes narrowed. He'd had quite enough of strangers lately. (The blonde woman in pink and black who would visit Bro and tousle Dave's hair. The cat with sharper eyes than any dumb animal would normally have. And the ravens, the ravens royally pissed him off by following him everywhere. There was even a crow, easily twice the size of any other bird that lived on the roof of the apartment.)

"What d'you want".

Bro had told him not to talk to strangers but he was too angry to think. Who's this douchebag?

"Just needed to show you somethin', little man. And give you a message. You gotta pen? Might wanna take notes".

The expensive-suit-clad asshole was smirking at him now, hands in his pockets. He was playing with some object in his left trouser pocket. Looked like a pencil, or a stick. Dave doesn't say anything. Guy smirks wider. 

He draws his left hand out of his pocket. Slender fingers hold a rod, red and black and creamy whitish. The colors are striped the long way, swirly and shiny. It doesn't click until he remembers the last conversation Dirk had with Bro, at the end of the winter before he stopped coming home. 

There had been shouting all morning. Doors slammed and one chair was broken. Strifes broke out in the living room, on the roof, everywhere. Dave hid in his room. Every few minutes, the yelling would start again. After a while, Dave started to actually listen to the words. 

Dirk asked Bro to stop. Said Bro couldn't stop him, Jake's gone anyway. Bro said he was to old for you, Dirk, he's your fucking professor. Dirk said he couldn't let him die for nothing. I can protect myself, I'm the best goddamn soldier out there. You aren't old enough to be a damn soldier, said Bro, even by wizard standards. That little stick isn't enough. If you're determined to go, take my sword. Dirk said yeah? Wanna see what this 'stick' can do?

At that moment, Dave peeked out of the doorway into the kitchen where his older brothers were now standing. He got a pretty good view of Dirk brandishing a... stick. His shades were gone from his face, the fury in his eyes was easily readable. One second, his brothers were standing, facing off in the kitchen. A flash of light and a loud bang later, Bro was slumped against the wall, Dirk was backing away, and Dave was screaming. 

After that, Dirk left. Dave cried on Bro's lap until he fell asleep. When he woke up, he was lying on his bed. 

Back in the present, Dave felt his eyebrows go up. Traitors. But the man before him was holding a wand. 

"See this? This here's a wand- for like, magic an shit. But what makes it special is, this bad boy's one of a kind. Cedar wood, obsidian, and", he pauses for effect- "leprechaun teeth". 

Dave's eyebrows go back together, furrowed in mixed disgust and fascination. The man bends his long legs to squat down by Dave in the dirt. He now holds the wand in both hands, palms up and flat. 

"Only one person can use a wand as unique as this. Here, hold it." 

Dave is caught by surprise, having no choice but to catch the offending object. It feels heavier than it looked, slightly warm on his skin. He stares at the wand. And slowly, looks back up at the man. He knows, and the man knows, but he says it anyway. 

"It's mine- isn't it."

It wasn't a question, but the man nods. Then he holds out his hand. Dave deposits the wand in the man's outstretched fingers- because the wand belongs to the man too. The man takes off his sunglasses, and Dave stares himself in the eyes. 

"Don't let anyone see you when you figure out how to travel. They won't understand. They might hurt you and think they're protecting you. You got a letter today, right?"

Young Dave nods. 

"It's important. Bro is waiting for you, he's gonna tell you a lotta things you never knew, never thought was possible. This is the second most important day of your life, little dude."

Future Dave smiles, genuinely now. He straightens up, looks up at the sun, and disappears like he was never there. 

\------

Several weeks later, Dave was alone for the first time in his life, surrounded by other kids. He had his wand- it chose him. He had doubted, for one terrifying second, thinking that his Future self had been some kind of elaborate prank. But it held true, and he clutched at the cedar wood, obsidian, leprechaun tooth wand. Somehow, it felt younger than the one he had held so many weeks ago. 

Dave was sitting on a long wooden bench, crammed with 11-year-olds. He was wearing robes and was convinced that he looked like an idiot, even among so many people dressed just like him. Dave, actually, wasn't quite alone- he made a few friends while he was getting his wizard school supplies. Since both he and Bro only knew fuckall about wizard stuff, they had been having some trouble until they ran into a plump middle-aged woman and her son. The boy barreled straight into Dave when Bro was trying to access their stupid wizard bank account. (apparently wizards don't know about credit cards or paper money. All they accepted was cold, hard metal- bronze, silver, and gold coins. The two of them discovered that since Dirk had passed, the Ministry had been putting yearly deposits into the vault, and the Striders had about four times the amount they thought they had. Unfortunately, it was all in heavy gold coins). The kid didn't bother brushing the dirt off his robes. He didn't even bother getting up off his ass. Just sat there, roundest, bluest eyes Dave had ever seen obscured only slightly by his big dumb specs, mouth hanging open. The woman laughed, like 'hoo hoo hoo!' until Bro turned around and she stopped dead. Dave smirks. 

"Strider! Where have you been hiding this rascal?"

The woman has a hint of genuine distress in her voice, but no anger. 

"Crocker. I try to keep my boys safe but your type keep callin em out to fight your secret little wars." Bro looks angry, in the way only Dave can detect- and it's terrifying. This is not what he expected in the least. 

The woman's face softens. "You can't stop them, Strider, you can only prepare them. You know, Jake English was a dear friend of mine. It's only been, what, seven years? Six? He had a little girl to look after, no older than my John here." She gestures to the boy who was picking himself off the ground now. He grins sheepishly at Dave. 

The woman regains her posture, and blinks as though she's been asleep. "I say," she continues, "that's enough reminiscing, in front of children anyway. Would you like some help? I'll gladly assist you in navigating the wizard markets!" She winks, addressing Bro. He sighs, but seems to relent. 

"Yeah sure, just don't run my kid over again." Bro's voice is more tired than Dave has ever heard. 

That was how Dave met John Egbert and Jane Crocker. He learned in the next short few hours that John was adopted. John was a huge nerd. John liked Ghostbusters and a menagerie of awful movies. He was goofy, and laughed a lot, and had a bucktooth grin. He brought his pet salamander to be his familiar. Dave, on the other hand, was cool, calculating, and always maintained a deadpan expression. He liked shitty video games and obscure movies with convoluted plots- they're ironic, John. He had been followed to Diagon Alley by the one enormous crow that nested on his roof, and was now pretending that it was his familiar. John said that was pretty strange. Usually wizards had owls, he said. 

They had been together when they received their wands. John's was made of phoenix tendon and pixie wings, which gave it a mystical blue sheen. The wandmaker said that the two wands belonging to the boys were practically artifacts- a set of four, in fact. Their origin was long forgotten now, but he said that these young wizards were very lucky, unique even. That wands this rare hasn't been sold since Kankri Vantas himself had stood in their very places. The four of you left before he could continue talking. 

Dave got books, pens, notebooks- anything he thought he'd need. Jane helped by telling them which businesses were more trustworthy, which products were most worth his money. She had also brought a list, the same one Dave had gotten in the mail- and promptly lost. 

The train was scheduled to leave the station at 5:00. Dave had a lot of questions about this damn train- if it's called the Hogwarts Express, is it used exclusively for transporting kids to the school? That seemed like kind of a waste, where did they get the money for maintenance? Who kept the train tracks themselves in safe, operable condition? If people aren't paying for transport, the train people don't have funds for any of this shit! 

John stared at him for a second and said, slowly, that he had honestly never thought about that. He also suggested that perhaps it's, oh I don't know, magic? Dave glared at him while he snorted with laughter. Right, he said, I should've known better than to approach you with a real-life question, my bad. Snort all you want, beaver boy, I know what I'm talking about. Dave sulks for the first thirty minutes of the train ride, refusing to give John Egderp the satisfaction of his attentions. 

There's a rapping noise on the door of their compartment. Dave looks up, vendetta forgotten, as John opens the slidey door thing to two girls. One had blonde hair and a purple headband, lips painted black to complement her winged eyeliner. She held in her arms a cat with empty, glassy eyes. It didn't seem to be breathing, but it flicked its tail- it must be alive. The other girl had big circular glasses, long and thick black hair, and a big white dog at her heels. Was it just Dave or did the dog seem to emit a faint green glow? Both girls had trunks in tow, full of school stuff, presumably. 

"Jade! Rose! I was worried you wouldn't find us!" crows John. Ha, crows. Dave looks over at the big black bird beside him, gives it a little nod. Its black eyes only glint back at him. 

"Nonsense, my friend. You have little faith." The blonde girl says, mouth quirked into a half-smile. She turns to Dave. Her eyes, he notes, are purple. 

"And who is your friend, John?"

John's eyes get big again, "That's Dave! Sorry, he's been ignoring me cuz I don't understand how the train economy works. Dave, this is Rose Lalonde," he gestures to the blonde girl, "And that's Jade!" he punctuates that statement by waving his arm towards the other girl like a tv show host showing Dave the car he just won. 

"Jade Harley," the girl named Jade adds, "nice to meet you Dave!" She smiles, full of teeth. The dog bounds over to Dave to sniff and slobber on him. After that relatively disgusting process, the girls seat them selves in the compartment, cozy but not cramped. Rose sits beside Dave, Jade by John. John launches into a complicated synopsis on how the three of them met. 

"Jane was best friends with Rose's mom, Roxy, and Jade's older cousin Jake- he looked after her when her parents died, yeah? Dave, you know about-" John's voice drops- "Lord English, right?"

Dave didn't know shit about any 'Lord English' but he was only half listening, and he nods. 

"Right, so Jake was killed by Lord English himself in a huge epic battle! That's when he became Lord English, cuz he stole Jake's last name to mock him even after he was dead. So then-" 

"Jake English? That was his name?" Dave is struck by a lingering familiarity of that name, but he can't quite place it. 

"Yeah, duh! Anyway-" John attempts to steamroll over that interruption, but Dave has more questions. 

"Did he uh, did he have a boyfriend?"

John just stares at him. Rose lifts one perfectly shaped eyebrow. Jade, however, bounces in her seat, eyes lit up with excitement. 

"Yes! They were lovers in secret, and after Jake died, his boyfriend went out to battle The Felt and Jack Noir! He killed them all with a straight face, a sword in one hand and a wand in the other, and died soon after the battle from his wounds. They say he could've recovered but he'd lost the will to live at that point, so they brought their ghosts to back to the school so they could be together again!"

Dave blinked. He hadn't really expected such an epic romance, his brother had never seemed the type. Another thought occurred to him. 

"So the ghost of my dead brother is waiting for me at school? That's gonna be awkward as hell."

Dave gets three blank stares. 

"What?"

John suddenly shoots up straight, like he got stabbed in the butt with a tac. "Ohhhh! Strider, I totally forgot!"

Rose looks at John incredulously. 

"You forgot your new friend was related to one of the greatest revolutionaries involved in the defeat of the most powerful wizard in history?"

John shakes his head defensively at Rose's almost acid tone. He looks embarrassed, and his voice gets a little squeaky.

"No I just, it didn't click until now! Sorry guys I'm so dumb, ha!"

Dave kinda zones out for the rest of the ride. 

\------

The Sorting Hat put him in Hufflepuff. The weird bones guy smiled and handed Dave a package of his new House robes. 

He had been the last of his four new friends to be Sorted. John was in Gryffindor, Jade in Ravenclaw, and Rose in Slytherin. 

Dave didn't know what the other kids were thinking, but thankfully this story is being told in third person omniscient, so you (the audience) can still know. 

Gosh, John thinks. We're all separated! How are we gonna share notes and talk about our secrets when we're all in different houses? Who's gonna protect me from imps and ghosts? (John is very uneasy around specters- they seem to pop up around him. He had hoped Dave would stay near him, he was a lot more substantial than Casey). 

Rose notes that detail about Dave. She had anticipated his placement in house Gryffindor. She also expected herself to be allocated to Ravenclaw. This is certainly not what I expected, she thinks. And what did that ugly garment mean, 'you aren't alone, even in your own head'? Too much weird shit happened today, first the dream, then the wandmaker, now a goddamn hat? I just want to sleep. 

Jade is studying the complex web of overlapping planes in the fabric of reality. She loves looking at the bright green filaments criss-crossing her vision. By her calculations, she could teleport the torch above Professor Leijon into the stratosphere with practically no pressure vacuum! After all, she doesn't want to break any windows. Kankri would be very cross. 

These kids sure are weird. 

Dave follows the quiet skeleton guy leading all the first year Hufflepuffs to... wherever the hell the HuffleHideout is. The author doesn't remember that little factoid. As they walk, skeleton guy introduces himself as professor Makara. Says he teaches Muggle Studies. Dave wonders if that's just like, normal school stuff. He wonders if it fucking matters. He doesn't notice Proffessor Makara's lips did not move to form the words.

They find the common room, the dormitories. Big whoop. Dave is itching to break out his laptop and get his blog on. Dave unpacks his belongings, stowing clothes in the pull-out drawer underneath the bed. He puts his shitty little digital camera in the bedside drawer, along with a preserved squirrel fetus. Bro didn't know he brought it, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him. 

It struck him, suddenly, that this was the first time he would be significantly separate from Bro. Not just for a couple nights, either. He would be spending the whole school year in this miserable shithole. (Hogwarts is no shithole. Dave's words, not the author's)


	2. In Which The Beta Kids Begin Their Education, Start To Discover Themselves, Including John's Capacity For Serial Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the first day of classes. expect timeskips in the near future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:  
> -I made everyone's wands out of weird shit  
> -Rose is a skeptic  
> -John has poor grammar  
> -You'll meet Dirk when i figure out how to write that bastard  
> -I don't have a beta, in case anyone is up for the position  
> EDIT: I CHANGED SOME THINGS IN THE STORY SO THE CHARACTERS ARE MORE FAMILIAR ANd so i can allow ships that would have been previously impossible with my moral code.

John Egbert was always finding little black smears on his stuff. Sometimes on his body. It was oily and weird and he hated it. We join him now as he attempts to wipe some of the gunk off of his glasses with the sleeve of his robe. He's running a little late to breakfast. He is, indeed, running. 

John scuttles into the Great Hall, lit by torches and sunlight, and is met by four long tables. He realizes, with a sinking feeling, that the students are sorted by their respective Houses during meals, too. He casts his eyes about the great stone room, noting where the banners fly and how the masonry seems to glow with residual summer warmth despite being so near to autumn. The staff are seated on a raised platform opposite the giant door (with a portcullis and everything, he had seen it last night coming in for the first time), eating breakfast and making conversation, with the exception of the ghost history teacher who doesn't really need to eat, you guess. You would be correct, but that is neither here nor there. 

At first he can't find any familiar faces in the congregation, but he spots the fluffy white body of Becquerel sitting on the floor at the end of the Ravenclaw table, and recognizes the black mop of hair as Jade's. As he nears her seat, he notices that the two platinum blonde kids across from her, though wearing Ravenclaw robes, are actually Rose and Dave. John grins in relief. Honestly, they could be twins. He sits himself down next to Jade, greeting each of his friends, new and old. Rose was talking at the moment, and John tunes in as he serves himself breakfast. 

"...Skeptic, I'm fully aware that many strange things are possible with magic, but I simply don't believe that even the most skilled magic-user can harvest shadow. It's not tangible, it's just an absence of light. How can my wand be made of shadow? I can believe willow and unicorn horn- god only knows how that's legal- but I digress." She sighs. "Sorry, this is just so confounding to me."

"Talk about illegal, mine's got fuckin leprechaun teeth in it." Dave interjects. Jade looks at him in open horror. He continues with a grimace, "yeah that was my reaction too."

Jade exclaims, "That's awful! Mine is just living wood and amber, I think. The guy said it was really rare though?" She frowns. "I don't get how the wood can still be alive!" 

"That's funny, he said the same thing about Dave and I's wands when we got 'em" John mumbles around a mouthful of hot cereal. Dave nods his assent. "A set of four," he adds, "according to the guy, at least."

"Where'd you guys get those robes?" John had been meaning to ask. 

Dave and Rose exchange a look. (They had actually only nicked them from the Ravenclaw common room, but the series of events that lead to and resulted from the expedition was somewhat embarrassing for both of them.) Without making eye contact with John, Rose inquires, "Have you received your class schedule yet, John?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, one second..." John digs in his back pocket for a moment, a small cry of victory when he produces a crumpled piece of paper (parchment was long since obsolete, in case you were confused). 

"Let's see, uh, Charms first, then History of Magic, Muggle Studies, lunch break, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions."

Jade looks at the ceiling and recites hers: "Muggle Studies, History of Magic, Divination, lunch, Care of Magical Creatures, DA, Herbology!" 

"I didn't think first years could take Divination... Or Herbology, come to think of it," Rose muses aloud. 

Jade grins. "Kankri lets me take advanced classes! Since I grew up around magic I have a lot of experience in spells and stuff, so I take the other courses first year, that way I can still be in my age group when I finally do take them!"

"My courses include History of Magic, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, lunch, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions," Rose states. "-In that order."

Dave leans forward, elbows on the table and chin in his hands. "Welp, looks like I got Charms with John, History with Jade, Muggle Studies with John and Rose, lunch with everybody, Care of Magical Creatures with Jade, Defense Against blah blah blah- jesus, that's such a mouthful- with everybody and Potions with Rose and John again. Hot damn, I can't get rid a' you nerds."

A throat clears quietly behind them. 

"Um-?" John mumbles in confusion. He turns to confront a figure that had somehow crept up behind him without his notice, perhaps to stutter defensively at them, but is stopped by one daintily lifted hand. Before him (well, behind him) stands a serene man no taller than Dave, with black hair so messy that it could rival his own unfortunate mop. The hand that obstructs John's view is soft and slender. He exudes an irritatingly knowing confidence. 

Dave himself briefly recalls this guy preaching at everybody for an hour before and after the Sorting, but he hadn't cared then and didn't care now. 

"The houses are separated by tables during meals to preserve the unique attributes celebrated and upheld by each respective group. To deny that separation is to deny the acknowledgement of each child's most definitive characteristic, their most valuable asset in this institution."

John was rather taken aback. 

"Um-"

"I'm sure you understand, but to undermine these values is to undermine the importance of each student and the role they play in the wizarding world."

John had no choice but to flee, or suffer this guy's sermon, leaving his breakfast unfinished in enemy territory. Acceptable losses. 

"This guy's insane." Dave states flatly, as he watches John shuffle to the Gryffindor table under the amused stares of many older students. The man directs a stern look towards Dave. 

"Now, implying that one is mentally disabled when they are, in fact, perfectly healthy is also invalidating the population of people who suffer from such disorders and can be triggering to such individuals..."

\--------

John decided that he liked Charms rather well. Professor Ampora seemed to be of Irish or Scottish descent, with his emphasized vowels and wavy speech. His hair is jet black and combed over to one side. He has two scars running diagonally down his face, from his right temple, down the bridge of his nose, back up his left cheek, and then down to his jawline, like twin bolts of electricity. His cape has an unusually high collar and he wears an expression of mild disgust at all times. Regardless of his shortcomings, he knew what he was doing and how to push his students just enough to teach them the material and not so much that they felt overwhelmed. John makes a giant white feather float over his desk for a brief few seconds before the class ends. Dave had somehow vanished his, and could not determine if he had teleported it somewhere or just made it invisible. Ampora sighed. 

History of Magic was taught by a ghost. John passes Rose on his way into the class, smiling and waving and losing his grip on his textbook, which slipped out of his arms and onto the floor. He blushes as he scoops it back up. Rose smiles, not unkindly, and exits the hallway. Both Jade and Dave join him in the classroom and make faces as Professor Megido drones on about wizard origins, occasionally lapsing into foreign languages. By the time the bell tolls (and it certainly tolls, not rings), the three of them have completed a collaborative piece of art depicting poorly drawn men talking about stairs, happy squid creatures, and muscular men holding bunnies. 

Muggle Studies was taught by the strange skeleton mime. Up close, he was even taller than he had seemed to John the night before, accentuated in part by his thin physique. He smiled perpetually, and spoke without moving his lips or opening his mouth. The paint on his face was smudged a bit, and traces were noticeable on his robes, but he was kind and seemed content with his life. 

The four children were reunited at lunch, around 11 o'clock. It was much more relaxed than the other meals and kids from all Houses sat at each table, chatting, laughing, writing letters to their parents. The tables were empty until the Headmaster walked in and waved his wand in a delicate sweeping motion in their general direction, and food appeared. 

"Fuck," Dave breathed, "I must know that spell."

Jade giggled. "It's not a spell that made the food, silly. Matter can neither be created nor destroyed! That was a transportation spell- house elves cook the food and put it on tables in the kitchen, and the spell switches out the tables and everything on them! I think it's pretty cool, too." 

Rose's eyes narrow at the plate of triangular club sandwiches in front of her. "And what do the house elves eat?" 

"Leftovers!" Says Jade, brightly. "The house elf liberation front rallied some years ago and established rights for the first time in centuries, and they now receive pay, food, and board. Your mother was actually involved in that when she was younger, Rose!"

"Jesus Harley," mutters Dave, "I can hear the exclamation points at the end of every sentence." Nobody hears him but John, who smiles apologetically at him. "You'll get used to it." he murmurs back. 

"Welp," Dave starts, louder now. "At least I know who to complain to about the severe lack of apple juice."

Jade grins. "You'll have to find them first!"

"Already ahead of you, Harley. Betcha didn't know the Hufflepuff common rooms are by the kitchens. Gotta play a little ditty for the door to open though." 

(Dave had, that morning, found himself trapped outside in the alcove full of barrels, tapping on each of them to a tune in his head and using his wand and a pencil as drumsticks. The door did open eventually, but he had suspected it was mostly out of pity.)

John frowns. "Isn't that supposed to be a secret though? Like I'm not allowed to tell anyone the password for the Gryffindor portal. They were very insistent about that." 

"Ad araerium." Rose says, smile on her lips. John's eyes go wide as he splutters "H-how did you know that??"

Rose makes a vague gesture towards his left side. "You wrote it on your hand. It seems you even tried to wash it off this morning. Never fear, dearest John, your secret is safe with us." She's smirking again. 

"Hell no it's not, I'm so sleeping under your bed tonight." Dave says this with a completely straight face. 

"Oh my god I'm leaving." John stands up, trips over himself trying to get off the bench, and falls back ass-wards to the floor. He lays there for a moment, on his back looking up at the ceiling (periwinkle, dotted with clouds) wondering what he did to deserve this. Jade and Dave laugh, Rose lifts an eyebrow, and John starts to pick himself back up. 

\--------

When John walked into Transfiguration, there was no teacher at the desk. The class was pretty chatty since the professor appeared to be absent, so he just seated himself in the second row from the front, furthest from the door. He did, however, notice a cat on the desk, looking at papers as though reading them. 

Considering that you are probably smarter than the average bear, you already know that the professor is an Animagus, and are 90% sure that it is Meulin Leijon. You would be right on both accounts, of course, but this chapter's plucky hero isn't equipped with that prior knowledge. We will forgive him, just this once. 

The cat seems to shift suddenly, and then distort noticeably. John can only look on in horror as the atmosphere around the animal seems to condense, growing... Into a woman. Fully clothed, however that works. Her skin is rich ebony, almost reflective in the sunlight that streams through the many windows of the room. Her hair is jet black, like the cat's fur- and it looks just as soft, framing her face like a frizzy lion's mane. Her eyes gleam yellow, and her Cheshire grin has more teeth than strictly necessary, in John's opinion. 

The entire class was speechless. The woman threw back her head and laughed, a real laugh from deep in her belly that shook her tiny frame. She finished after a few moments and, wiping her eyes, giggled "I'm Purrfessor Leijon, welcome to Transfiguration! That's the highlight of my damn year. Let's get to know each other!"

The class period was spent introducing themselves to each other, and then a brief explanation of the art of transfiguration itself. John made two new friends, the students sitting on either side of him- an African girl named Dani and an American boy named Rex. It was a relief for him to finally have some friends in his own House. 

Defense Against the Dark Arts promised to be interesting from the course title alone. Dave and Jade walked in together, relaying the events of their first Care of Magical Creatures class. According to Dave, professor Zahhak was a euphoric freak of nature, but Jade whacked him and said he was actually very sweet, just misunderstood. Apparently one of the students had been aggressed by one of the wyverns they were handling (wyverns, she said, are like small dragons with no forelegs, just hind legs and wings, that spit acid instead of fire) and Zahhak had grabbed the creature with his bare hands and moved it back into the stables. John assumed he was the Gamekeeper, but Jade informed him that the position was actually held by a man named Rufioh Nitram, who could commune with beasts. The only reason he didn't teach the class is because he was a very outgoing man who was currently tasked with the care and treatment of some very dangerous and rare creatures, and that required more time than teaching full-time would allow. It was also rumored that he had a pair of translucent butterfly wings on his back. Actually, that was a fact, but John takes everything Jade says with a grain of salt. Especially after the Spider Incident. He's gotta see it to believe it. 

Professor Serket walks into the room. She's shorter than John expected. She holds a book under one arm and waves a wand of pale material with the other. The window shutters slam closed. 

"Today," she begins, "We're going to jump right in with some simple sparring techniques- no wands, just forms and stances." 

John hears Dave murmur under his breath, "Oh boy."

\--------

"I don't think turning students into birds is an approved teaching method," Rose began as they left the classroom. 

Dave muttered darkly to himself, plucking another orange feather out of his hair. John couldn't quite decipher his grumblings and didn't really want to, either. 

"To be fair, I'm not sure there's a standard procedure for students falling out of windows," Jade replied. 

John shuddered. "It wasn't even fully bird, it was like... a smaller Dave with wings and a snake tail thing instead of legs."

"I think she panicked, fired the first spell that came to mind, that would also stop our friend from meeting a grisly end at the hands of stone courtyards and gravity. How exactly did you hit the window with your entire body, at approximately Mach 4, on accident?" Rose raises an eyebrow at Dave. 

Dave pouted through his triangular sunglasses. "For your information, Lalonde, I was pushed by wannabe serial killer John 'I'm a fucking douchebag' Egbert. I hope you know I'll be pressing charges. See you in court, asshole." Dave is mumbling again, but loud enough to be heard.

John throws his hands in the air. "I barely touched you! There was like, a breeze or something..." He trails off, uncertain. It was true- John had only grazed Dave's chest with his fingertips. The gust of air that blew past him at the same moment had pushed Dave towards the window, and the momentum as he tripped backwards over his robes had carried him through the glass. John still felt very guilty. Professor Serket had only sighed, saying "No harm, no foul. Be more careful in the future."

"C'mon guys, Potions and we're done for the day." Dave sounded extremely tired, which he had every right to be. John felt his insides twist with guilt. He had already apologized like fifteen times. 

As they pass through a courtyard, something appears quite suddenly in front of John's face. Naturally, he flips the fuck out, but is equal parts humiliated and relieved to find that the floating thing was merely a giant white feather. He turns, blushing, only to find that the other three are focused on something else entirely. He looks back at his assailant, resting on the stone pathway. It seems to be one of the feathers that professor Ampora was using to demonstrate the spell this morning. Odd. The Charms classroom is well on the other side of the Great Hall and the Infirmary. It wasn't terribly windy... Maybe a student had taken it out of the classroom for some unfathomable reason? It couldn't be very important, John reasoned, it's just a feather. Not a subtle plot device, that's for sure. 

The girls and Dave had been distracted by a small light show in the opposing corridor, near the Muggle Studies room. John walks back to stand by them and observe. Suddenly, two other students careen around the corner, one wearing grey-spotted pajama pants and clown face paint, and the other with a long sleeved black turtleneck on under his robes. The clown boy was laughing hysterically while his friend just grinned- all teeth- as they ran past their small audience. 

Jade giggled. "That was Karkat and Gamzee. I should've known they'd start their bullshit on the first day."

Angry yelling erupts from around the corner, and the kids take that as their cue to 'gtfo'. Dave's words, not the author's.


	3. A Look Inside The Young Mind Of Rose Lalonde, And Subsequent Events

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw in a little Vriska at the end? I'm having a hard time right now tbh but I really enjoy writing fics. They're kinda just for me to have stupid fun with, but if you enjoy them also then I'm very glad!

Rose Lalonde is not schizophrenic. Really. After all, there were such things as prophets. Why should vividly bizarre dreams or talking animals be so strange? In a world teeming with magical activity, such things are only to be expected. So no, Rose is not suffering from any mental disorder, she's just more sensitive to the whisperings of... Things. Things she can't quite see, but for sometimes in the corner of her eye or the background in a mirror. Things that loom behind her in her dreams of empty obsidian palaces, but when she turns to look she wakes violently with her blankets tangled around her limbs, the ghost sensations of cold tendrils on her skin. 

This is probably perfectly normal. There is no reason for her to inform anybody. No worries. 

The snake in the cage at the end of her table in the Potions classroom introduced herself as Echidna. Rose, not one to be rude, exchanges whispered pleasantries with the reptile, examining the room. The floors were tiled with dark ceramic, the walls were much the same, and the ceiling is plated with fireproof panels (she recognized these from her mother's laboratory). 

A shockingly beautiful woman enters the room. 

She wears a long black-and-swirls-of-jade skirt, a swatch of fabric wrapped around her waist and secured into place with silver studs. It billows at her heels as she walks into the room, hugging her immaculate figure under her much looser robes. Her blouse is plain black with a jade green symbol, like an 'M' with an extra loop at the tail end printed on the front, her hair is black in stark contrast with her alabaster skin, and swirly black tattoos curl across her chest and the exposed flesh of her forearms and calves. Black lipstick, black eyelashes- Rose is enchanted. 

The desks are actually tables, arranged in rows facing the front of the room with a space through the middle just wide enough for a shapely woman to fit through. Dave, John, Jade, and Rose are in one row, in that order. Dave is seated on the right side the aisle where the teacher now walks and Rose is sitting on the far right, nearest the wall. Each table has four little burners, like a stovetop with pits that were deeper, to hold actual firewood, and the desk surface was stainless steel, presumably for cutting and preparing ingredients on. Just to give you some perspective.

"Hello children, you will refer to me as professor Maryam. I'll be guiding you in the art of alchemy, more commonly referred to as potions. Has everyone brought their book today? Raise your hand if you have it, please."

Most students raise their hands, Rose included. Dave either forgot his or never brought it and would be sharing with John for the rest of the foreseeable future, knowing Dave. 

"Capital. Please turn to the introduction, that's usually page 7 in the standard edition." Professor Maryam's voice was low and soothing, like the lone cello in a symphony of chatter. 

Rose opens her textbook. As Maryam begins to read aloud, Echidna speaks again. 

_"Her bite is lightquick and her venom is silent. Makes prey fastsleep. Sunnygold sister-mine, do not stray far from your herd- there are wolves about."_

Rose furrows her brow. _"She is wolf?"_ She whispers back. 

_"She is, to youngling like you. She tastes her own sting on her prey, and make sleep herself after."_

Rose wonders if Echidna is being literal, and to what degree- if professor Maryam actually drugs people, which wouldn't be hard considering she's the Potions teacher. But... Why the hell would she want to do that? 

The class period ends without incident. Rose bids farewell to her new serpentine friend and exits the room. John and Jade chatter as they walk and Dave follows just behind, next to Rose. Neither of them speak, but the silence is not uncomfortable. They simply have nothing to say. Rose excuses herself as they pass the library, promising to meet them all for dinner (John too had a Ravenclaw robe now. He had procured it on his own, and nobody asked how). 

Rose had always felt most at home surrounded by books. This library, she could practically feel the age of some of these tomes- many were bound by hand, and in leather. There were new books and ancient texts sitting next to each other on the shelves, organized by subject. One sign read 'CREATURES, MAGICAL' another 'ALCHEMY'. She perused the shelves in order. Dark Arts, Divination, Frogs, Gnome History and Culture, History of Magic, Hogwarts, Impology (sounds fake but okay), Magic- Disambiguation, Nocturnal Plants & Animals And Where to Find Them, Occlumency, Owl Care, Potions, Quidditch, Unsafe Magical Malpractice, Rose finally stopped paying attention, instead just running her fingers over the spines of the books, enjoying the faint smell of old paper and glue. There was a lengthy Miscellaneous section, and a little door at the back. It said FORBIDDEN SECTION. Rose almost giggled out loud. 

She turns the knob and it pops right open. Laughably easy. Behind the door is several narrow rows of shelves, three aisles in all. An uncovered lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, providing barely enough light to read by, if she sat in the middle of the center aisle. She closes the door behind her. She figures she has about two more hours before dinner, she can make a good dent in this selection. The 'selection' being the entire room. Because of course she wants to read every book here. Nerd. 

Rose begins by skimming the spines of each antiquated book, discerning titles and selecting the books that most piqued her interest. Once she has a pile of about eight books, she sits in the center of the room, takes the first off of the pile, and begins to read by the dim light. 

_The following text, as with each selection within these pages, is inscribed in an esoteric language only legible to the soulless, truly evil, or the cursed. It is said that for every crime one commits against their soul, they can comprehend one word of this language. It is both written and spoken, sounding guttural and violent aloud, and (hopefully) appearing to be nonsense to the human eye. The inscriptions contained in this book were uncovered in an underground temple- or, perhaps, a tomb- in Ireland. The exact location of this place is withheld for the safety of the more adventure-seeking readers. All documents in this text that relate occurrences from the author's investigation of the temple are entirely truthful- whether the reader believes them or not is none of [the author's] concern._

Well, this certainly promised to be interesting. She reads on to the next passage, only to find page after page of garbled nonsense. Aside from sparse commentary, the author gave no hints as to what it said. Disappointed, Rose closes the book and sets it aside for further study, at a later date. The next book she picks up actually has a title; _Denizens_. That's it. She flips to the first page, which seems to be a table of contents. 

Introduction  
The Ram  
The Fairy Steed  
The Bicyclops  
The Crab  
The Huntress  
The Serpent  
The Lady  
The Spider  
The Exile  
The Sea-Goat  
The Skyhorse  
The Horror

_Introduction_

_The twelve Denizens are widely believed to be myth and legend. Perhaps they are, and the evidence I have collected is purely coincidental. That is entirely possible, but in case it is not, I have published exactly three copies of this text- one to keep as proof to myself, one to pass on to the public, and one to hide in the event of emergency, so there may be some hope for humankind- wizard and muggle alike- should certain events come to pass. The Denizens themselves seek these books, but cannot destroy them- nor can they open them, and will go to great lengths to obtain and hide them. Those who pursue this knowledge often perish soon afterwards or lose all memory of what they learned. All will be explained in detail. Proceed with utmost caution, dear reader._

Now this is the kind of content Rose had been hoping for. Forbidden secrets? Yes please. Danger? Sign her the fuck up. Certain death at the hands/hooves/tentacles of Eldritch beasts? Jesus Christ, this kid is gonna die. 

\--------

That evening, after dinner (a lively affair- the other students were beginning to warm up to the first years) Rose found her way back to the common room with little trouble. In the end, she had taken three books from the library, intending to read them later. Worn rugs covered patches of stone floor, comfy chairs sagged in front of one central fireplace. It was dim, and the ceiling- seemingly glass, or perhaps obsidian- reflected the green glow of the torches. Sometimes dark shapes appeared to slide around behind it, but it was nearly completely black and difficult to discern. Now was not the time to unravel that particular mystery however. 

Jasper was getting restless. His state of existence was inconsistent to say the least. More often than not, lately, he seemed pretty dead on his feet. Rose's mom had been saying for years now that he was at death's door, but he had stubbornly refused to die, time and time again. Mom frowned every time she laid her eyes on the old tomcat. She never said anything, but as weeks turned into months, and then years, Rose began to sense it too. Jasper's life was growing unnaturally long, and he couldn't hope to cling onto it for much longer. 

He wasn't dead yet though, and Rose wasn't going to let him starve. She still had a few cans of wet cat food in her trunk, but they would only last a few more days. After that, she wasn't sure where to get more- perhaps there was a pet store in the nearby wizard village. Hog-something. What's up with all the hogs?

Rose made her way to the girls' dormitory. Her bed was all the way at the end of the first years' row. Jasper was curled up on her cot, asleep. He shifted slightly when she sat down on the other side, but didn't move otherwise. Rose opens a can of Meaty Bits and sets it on the floor beside her bed. Jasper could eat his favorite ambiguous animal chunks at his leisure. 

A small burst of movement catches her attention. Something blue scurries along the crevice created by the far wall meeting the floor. Rose blinks, once, twice, and comes to the conclusion she is looking at a very large spider. A tarantula, as it were. Internally, Rose is screaming. Outwardly, however, she makes every effort to remain calm. Every time she sees an insect, she is overwhelmed by the sensation of something horrible crawling on her skin. She's not sure why. Rose has always considered herself to be a rational, clear-headed young lady. But for some reason, bugs bypass her self control entirely and immediately cause her much panic. 

"Haplopelma Lividum. The cobalt blue tarantula."

Rose turns to see another girl about her age. She's got flawless skin, pale like milk, and smooth black hair. Her eyes are greyish-blue, predatory, piercing. A cunning arch-rival if Rose ever saw one. Except for the red Converse, and denim. She might use that later if the girl proved to be a bitch, but ultimately Rose tries to stay away from petty name-calling. 

Somebody was saying something. What an obnoxious voice. The tarantula is still behind her. Come on Rose, stop dissociating!

"... I just call him Mindfang. No one has to know. I'm Vriska. You?"

Did she just miss a secret? Shit. Rose loves knowing secrets. Spider. The girl wants something. Didn't she ask a question? Rose feels like she's underwater, trying to listen but the sound isn't coming through. There's a giant fucking spider. Oh, her name?

"Rose Lalonde. And that's Jasper."

Her voice is so far away. Vriska keeps talking. She's walking towards the spider. Little black spots are popping up everywhere. Rose tries to turn her head to look at them but they're never _there._ Jasper is meowing in his horrible scratchy yelling voice. Overstimulation. Rose is about to faint. That's dumb, she thinks. Inky blackness welcomes her. 

\----------

Vriska isn't a bad person. She just doesn't get emotional. If there's a problem, you take care of it. Screaming or freaking out won't help anyone. Certainly not Rose Lalonde, who fainted onto her bed. She was already sitting down, she wasn't hurt or anything. It's kinda funny. 

She's gotta give the girl props, though. She didn't let on how scared she was, even Vriska herself didn't pick up on it. And she's good at picking up on stuff. 

Vriska scoops up Mindfang. She named him before she knew he was a male. She just tells everyone that he's a girl to avoid confusion. She isn't sure why she told Rose that. Once Mindfang is safely contained, she goes back to check up on her fallen brother. Sister. Whatever. Her pulse is... pulse-like. It's there, she's not dead at least. The cat is a different story. It looks like its been dead for weeks. 

Dammit, Vriska! Pay attention! Now is the time for executive action. 

Now, Vriska has been to the Infirmary twice since coming to Hogwarts. She arrived two days before classes started, with her aunt Aranea. Aunt Aranea was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. The first time had been for the sores. The Matron had given her salve after inspecting them, saying that while they were peculiarly uniform (perfect ovals, two on each side of her abdomen), they didn't seem otherwise extraordinary. The second time had been escorting a crippled boy earlier this morning, who was tormented by a small group of older children. It was oddly fulfilling to play the hero for once. And with that thought, Vriska decided she would pretend Rose was her princess and that she was brave knight. 

Vriska had learned the fireman carrying technique from her mother, a lieutenant in the American military. Somehow that did not seem appropriate for this moment, so Vriska scooped her up bridal style- oof, 100 pounds of 13-year-old girl- and hustled out the dorm. Girls stared. In the common room, boys _and_ girls stared. In the hallways, the paintings stared. Vriska didn't give a shit. Vriska wasn't even there. Vriska was in Middle Earth, escaping with her elven lover. 

The stairs were the most difficult. It was only one flight of stairs up to the ground floor but it felt like more. At the Infirmary, the Matron was filing papers. Her thin eyebrows go up as she sees Vriska enter the room, descending upon her immediately with much fussing and clucking. 

Almost as soon as they had maneuvered Rose onto a cot, she came to. Typical. Her eyelashes fluttered open, her brow creasing as she took in her surroundings. Matron began her gentle interrogation and Vriska was shooed out as soon as she had given up all useful information ("I don't know, she just passed out!"). 

Back in the common room, kids surrounded her with questions. Vriska grinned- with all her teeth- and told them she put a nasty spell on the girl, and that she'd do the same to them if they messed with her. Even the fifth-years looked impressed. Vriska retreats to her bunk. It was late, the only thing keeping everyone awake had been curiosity. 

Rose's bunk was right next to hers. Vriska tried to sleep, but something wouldn't let her. Restless, she snatches up her wand (it was sort of like a stick of beef jerky), to light the way, and goes to nose about in Rose's business. There was a school bag under the bed that seemed to be calling her, so she starts there. A bunch of dusty old books. One was about illegal experimentation on magical creatures, one was mostly gibberish except the occasional random word (slaughter, wish, web, cataclysm), and the last would not open. 

It didn't appear to be bound or locked by any physical means. This made her feel strangely frustrated. Weird. Probably a lame book anyway. 

All it said on the front was 'Denizens'.


End file.
